


Demons

by Clea2011



Category: Atlantis (UK TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 21:03:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3825010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clea2011/pseuds/Clea2011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ilaria had been an ugly little duckling for most of Icarus’ life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demons

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the trope bingo square 'au:daemons', which I was struggling horribly to come up with something for until the wonderful Icarus finally turned up in Atlantis last night.   
> Thanks to Deinonychus_1 for the beta.

Ilaria had been an ugly little duckling for most of Icarus’ life.

She wasn’t like the other daemons, hadn’t kept changing all through his childhood. She’d just been there, all brown feathers and stunted little wings, following him around. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her, she was his daemon and their bond was unbreakable. It was just when he saw other people, saw the daemons they had, he wondered why.

“Why does she stay a baby?” Icarus asked his father, eventually, frustrated by the useless wings. If Ilaria was going to be a bird she should at least be able to fly. He had to carry her everywhere.

Danali, Daedalus’ daemon, was an owl, intense and frantic in turns, not unlike the man himself. Icarus could remember, as a child, coming out to his father’s workshop and finding them there locked in endless argument. Danali often got the best of it, the only being he knew of who his father would actually listen to. He certainly never listened to Icarus.

Sometimes he caught his father looking at Ilaria as if he were sizing her up, judging her and finding her wanting. It was a reflection of the way that sometimes Icarus thought his father looked at him as well. He wasn’t the son Daedalus would have wanted, not in any way. Pythagoras probably fitted the role better, brilliantly clever, loyal and brave.

Pythagoras’ daemon, Adara, was a fox. Adara was sleek and clever and quick. She suited Pythagoras, he thought. He watched with envy whenever Ilaria would run to Adara, clumsily waddling around her, flapping those tiny little wings excitedly, not even trying to hide her adoration. How he longed to be able to do the same.

“You should be careful,” his father said one day. “People will notice. People can be judgemental, cruel.”

Sometimes Icarus thought that there was disappointment, even goading in his father’s tone when he gave Icarus advice. But this time there was nothing but concern. Perhaps Daedalus would have liked a genius son, but that didn’t stop him loving the one he’d got. Icarus’ heart was briefly a little lighter at the realisation, but heavier when he thought of the cause. And anyway, perhaps it was Pythagoras that Daedalus was concerned for. It wouldn’t do to have the brilliant mathematician the subject of scandal across Atlantis. And then, of course, there would be the inevitable arrests and the punishment. No, he couldn’t risk Pythagoras suffering that. He would face whatever happened himself, but could never stand to put Pythagoras through it.

Reluctantly he called Ilaria back to his side. And there was that look again on his father’s face as he watched the ungainly little creature. Why couldn’t his daemon have been something graceful or strong?

Pythagoras just watched him, saying nothing. What could he say, in front of Daedalus?

\---

“She’s like a cygnet,” Pythagoras commented. It was late summer and they were both out of the city, escaped for the afternoon to the hills where they could be alone. People wouldn’t understand how it was between them. Or perhaps they would understand all too well. Neither of them were willing to risk it.

“A cygnet?”

“A baby swan.” Pythagoras gazed at where Ilaria was dozing quietly, cuddling up to Adara. “One day, perhaps, she’ll change into her adult form. I’ve heard of such things happening.”

“You think so? You think things will change?”

“I think your daemon might. Other things…” he paused, and Icarus could see his own pain and longing reflected back in his lover’s eyes. “I can only wish. But no, I don’t think they’ll change. But we have this.” He leaned in, and placed a gentle, loving kiss on Icarus’ lips. “It will have to be enough.”

Icarus lay back in the grass, looking up at the sky, the clouds, wishing things were different. He imagined a life where he and Pythagoras didn’t have to hide away. He imagined his father, looking at him with pride at last for some impossible feat. He imagined Ilaria up there, her wings spread wide, flying, soaring up to meet the bright, relentless sun.

 


End file.
